


Coming Home

by ellethesnail



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Healing from trauma, POV Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:49:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethesnail/pseuds/ellethesnail
Summary: домой: adv. home, homewardWhat is home when you were raised more like a weapon than a girl? Over the course of her time with the Avengers, Natasha begins to learn what the word "home" might really mean.A songfic with Skylar Grey's "Coming Home Pt. II" for Natasha as she grows––first a glimpse from The Winter Solder, then Age of Ultron, Civil War, the Infinity War prelude comic, and finally post-Infinity War.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Laura Barton & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Coming Home

_and the blood will dry underneath my nails_

She stands in front of the wide computer screen, back poised, fingers flicking across keys. She can feel the councilmen watching her.

_and the wind will rise up to fill my sails_

She keeps her face emotionless, stoic, sure. This is what she has to do––the next step in the plan. It will expose all of HYDRA’s secrets, shut down the whole operation. Everything is fitting into place.

Just a few more clicks of the mouse, a swift string of characters as she types in a password, then open, click, scroll . . .

_so you can doubt and you can hate_

“If you do this, none of your past is going to remain hidden.” It’s Pierce’s voice, somehow still confident. She knows he’s only speaking to make her waver. “Are you sure you’re ready for the world to see you as you really are?”

_but I know no matter what it takes_

Her hand hesitates as she hovers the cursor over the button that will release all of the information they had been hiding. All of their secrets, but also all of hers. Her ledger, dripping red.

She swallows. She thinks of Steve, of Nick, of Clint. Of the talk in the car with Steve about friendship, of the warmth of Nick’s arm around her like a shield, of Clint and the way he took her in when she was just a kid going the wrong way.

She urges those faces to the forefront of her mind and allows a tiny smirk to creep over her lips. She doesn’t look at Pierce when she answers.

“Are you?”

She clicks the button.

_I’m coming home_

–––| :: |–––

_I’m coming home_

The house smells exactly as she remembered it as Clint pushes open the door. Scents of apple, cinnamon, and worn paper mingle in the warm spring air. The toys scattered across the hardwood floor are a familiar minefield and she still recognizes the spines of the books on the shelves.

_tell the world I’m coming home_

And when she steps through the doorway, Clint supporting her on one side, she sees Laura standing in the center of the kitchen. Afternoon sunlight falls like a cloak about her, glinting in her hair and catching in her eyes and highlighting both the laughter and worry lines that crease her face. Laura’s eyes meet hers and in them she feels safe again, like that first time Clint brought her here, that first time she realized a place could hold laughter and light instead of fear.

_let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday_

But there is concern in Laura’s eyes too, of course, and that makes the nightmare resurface, the one that haunted her what felt like just moments ago though it must have been hours, maybe even a day. She breaks eye contact with Laura because she doesn’t want her to see the defeat behind the green of her irises. This place is safe, and it needs to stay that way. She cannot––will not––let robots or mind-manipulating mutants touch this house or the thousands of others spread across the country and the planet, tiny spheres of safety in a world of gunfire.

_I know my kingdom awaits_

As she grabs the edge of the table, a voice breaks through the quiet.

“Did you bring Auntie Nat?”

She knows it’s Lila by the lemonade sweetness of her voice and by the crooked braids that flap against a mustard sweater when the little girl turns her head.

She can’t help but grin. “Why don’t you hug her and find out?”

Her memories of a different life––a darker life––melt away as she swings Lila up into her arms.

_and they’ve forgiven my mistakes_

She holds Lila close, lets her weary, sweaty face feel the softness of Lila’s cheek against hers. This is innocence, this is life. This is a home and people who know what she’s done and yet love her still. This is children––curled up on the couch, running in the yard, waiting in the womb of a woman who mothered her as well––and though they are not her own in blood, they can still be her own when they show her their crayon drawings and invite her to build legos with them on the bedroom floor.

_I’m coming home, I’m coming home_

This is who she is now, or at least who she wants to be. Who she can be.

_tell the world I’m coming_

–––| :: |–––

_still far away from where I belong_

This isn’t how she thought it would end. Not when she first joined. Not when she finally, almost, managed to call them family.

She never let herself have attachments before. It made it easier when whoever she was working with eventually got themselves killed. But this time, it was different. She isn’t sure if she likes to admit that it was.

_but it’s always darkest before the dawn_

At least she can still fight. At least it isn’t over for good. She knows there is still a chance for the rest of Tony’s team to realize how wrong they are.

It’s what she has in mind to do when she walks up to Tony. Check to see how Rhodey is doing, of course, but then try to make things right.

“Steve’s not going to stop,” she says, staring through the glass at the budding trees. “If you don’t either, Rhodey’s going to be the best case scenario.”

It’s one thing to lose associates, it’s another to lose family. It’s the worst thing to lose family and then wake up and find out you were wrong. None of them should have to live with that.

_so you can doubt and you can hate_

“You let them go, Nat.” Tony doesn’t look at her either.

She turns her head, trying to lock eyes with him, aching for him to see what she’s seen before it’s too late. “We played this wrong.”

_but I know no matter what it takes_

When she finally walks away, she knows her words did nothing. But at least she spoke them. As unfamiliar as it may be, she knows this isn’t a one-man mission anymore. She needs them, even Tony. But this time keeping them together isn’t the most important thing. She leaves Tony silhouetted by the evening sun and hopes he can see before someone is more than just paralyzed.

Until he does, she knows she was wrong, and she can work to make that right. This time, it’s a decision she can make for herself.

_I’m coming home_

–––| :: |–––

_I’m coming home_

She sits in the shadowed back of a plane as Steve flies. Sam fell asleep hours ago, but she can’t close her eyes. She’s sick of the bad dreams.

She can’t tell what the plane is passing over and she doesn’t want to disturb Steve by asking him. Logically she knows they should be somewhere over Europe by now, maybe even the Middle East, but part of her likes to imagine Iowa’s farmland lying under the thick clouds and darkness.

_tell the world I’m coming home_

Nathaniel might be sitting up on his own by now. Cooper has no doubt grown out of the jeans Laura just bought him. Lila’s Christmas recital would’ve been last month.

She knows she can’t call them, can’t put both her and Clint at risk like that, but she still thinks about it. Wonders what Cooper got for his birthday, if Lila liked the colors of her costume this year.

_let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday_

Even just hearing their voices would help. These last few months have felt like ones of silence. Not only between her and the Bartons, but between them all.

_I know my kingdom awaits_

She remembers her conversation with Steve just days ago, the one that ended with him insisting not to tell Tony about their mission. “He has enough on his plate,” Steve told her, but she knew the full truth.

_and they’ve forgiven my mistakes_

And then there’s Bruce. She knows now running away was never the solution. She just wishes he would return, maybe even help reconcile Tony and Steve.

Or maybe that’s too much to ask for, and this group of heroes she had grown to love can never be a group again.

For now, Sam and Steve are still by her side. And they’re still protecting the world, no matter how many times it insists it doesn’t need protection. There will always be precious things––like families and homes and afternoon baseball games––needing to be protected, and that’s why she’s still here.

_I’m coming home, I’m coming home_

Steve appears in the doorway to the cockpit, his face covered by the dark. It must be past 1:00 by now.

“We’re about ready to hit down in Syria.” His voice sounds tired, and not just from the time of night. “Best get ready.”

_tell the world I’m coming_

–––| :: |–––

_I’m coming home, I’m coming home_

Wind snakes through thick Wakandan leaves. It plays with the ash at her feet. It picks up the flecks and carries them a few inches before dropping them again as if they’re too heavy to hold. She can understand that. The whole world feels too heavy to hold now.

The seven of them stand there in the forest, motionless. It had all been leading to this, but nothing had prepared them for the results. What is there to protect when the enemy has already won? What is there to return to?

_tell the world I’m coming home_

Or maybe that’s not the right question to be asking. Maybe now it’s about somehow helping those left behind. Something more like Laura’s job and less like Clint’s. Something that looks like offering supplies and comfort and some form of guidance in the aftermath of destruction.

_let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday_

She knows there will be children whose parents have disappeared, families with half their members gone. Governments will be in ruins, countries in chaos. 

_I know my kingdom awaits_

This was nothing any of them trained for, but this is what the world needs. When did they ever give it anything less?

_and they’ve forgiven my mistakes_

She looks around at her friends’ dirty, weary faces. Everything they’ve lost lies in piles at their feet and their weapons look meaningless in their hands. But they are still soldiers, warriors, guardians and Avengers. People she would die fighting beside.

_I’m coming home, I’m coming home_

For the first time that she can remember, she has no idea what lies ahead. More likely than not, only more ashes and dust.

But if there is one thing she has learned––one thing others have taught her––these past five years, it’s that once you find people worthy enough to fight beside and a purpose worthy enough to fight for, you don’t back down.

Buildings crumble. People who know your true name turn to ash. But as she stands on the crest of a hill with the end of the world unfolding before her, she knows the devastation will not make her stop. It will only make her fight harder until all is finally as it should be.

_tell the world I’m coming home_


End file.
